


Addicted

by Waywardkitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eavesdropping, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardkitten/pseuds/Waywardkitten
Summary: Sam knows it’s wrong, the way he feels and the way he wants and yet he can’t seem to stop





	Addicted

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: The tarot card The Devil “ _Careless and unrestrained sexuality, addiction and indulgence_ ”  
> ~  
> So I’m struggling with low self-esteem and this makes me not trust my own capacity or way of writing ergo I try to mold my writing after the more popular fanfic writers on here and tumblr which, as you probably know, is not great for developing your writing. So with this short thing I tried to go back to my more poetic type of writing and it would mean the world to me if you would leave me some feedback and tell me what you think  
> ~  
> My [tumblr](https://waywardkitten.tumblr.com/)

There was so much heat. So much so that he felt engulfed by it beneath the cotton sheets, soft after years of wear, sliding up and down his overheated skin as he squirmed underneath the covers. 

It felt good, too good- and it really shouldn’t.

The warmth surrounding him was like a gust of warm breath that gently cradled him in itself. Everywhere one of his limbs met with another, arm against stomach, thigh against thigh, fingertips against cheek, pebbles sprung up in it’s wake only to be sated and smoothed down by the warmth. He groaned lowly as the heavy breathing of his brother, badly concealed by the motels paper thin walls, grew into harsh pants and shaky moans.

Sam tried to reason with himself, just as he had done the first time this had happened as well as the second, third and fourth time; if he was honest with himself he had lost count. He couldn’t even tell you if this was the 20th, 30th or 100th time he lied awake, split apart on the emotions of jealousy, bliss and disgust.

He imagined the feeling of when his long limbs touched was Dean’s smooth pale flesh that warmed him, that the fingertips dancing over his aching length were dotted with freckles and adorned with silver rings and leather bracelets, that the crescent shapes he left on his shoulder would be the more straight curve of his brother’s nails. He writhed with it, pulling himself forward and in his delirious state of want halfway expecting Dean’s face to meet him halfway.

He knew he shouldn’t. He was well aware and every other waking moment he was filled with self loathing and disgust for it and could not comprehend why he would do such a thing again and again.

Yet every time they decided to splurge on separate motel rooms so Dean could get in a quick lay, he was reminded.

The bed in the other room started to slam against the wall, keeping a staccato rhythm with Dean’s deep rumbling grunts that had Sam biting his hand, arching and squirming on the rumpled up sheets. Sam’s cock twitched and wet the already cooling patch of pearly white on his abdomen and he whined lowly. 

He could smell the sweat on himself, the salty tang mixed with the warm scent of skin. He groaned and pulled back the wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead. The heat was everywhere, and Dean- Dean was so close. Every fiber of his being hummed with wrong, wrong, wrong but he was used to it by now. In that moment he almost felt like laughing at it because it was so truly pointless. Dean was his dirty secret, his macabre little addiction and he could argue with himself until he was six feet under- he was never going to stop. Because Dean would never cease to have this effect on him.  
“Oh...my..god… _shitfuckshit_ ”

Sam groaned loudly, not bothering to muffle himself. He loved these nights, when Dean managed to drag back a girl that was basically silent, which meant Sam had no distractions from hearing his brother work up to the edge and slowly lose control.

He shuddered. This was his favourite part.

The heat beneath the covers became more prominent as Sam’s pulse started to race. The motel was so silent that Dean’s pants and harsh moans sounded like they were in the same room. He gritted his teeth, his eyebrows drawing together as he arched a bit, letting his fingernails scrape over his chest and abs, bending back and forth, reveling in the sensations and the sounds from the other room. A bead of sweat forming at his temple cut loose and danced down his cheek and over his jaw and throat to rest at his clavicle, beginning a pool of salt there as Sam worked his fingers down his body.  
“Come on, come _on_ ”, Sam urged in a hushed breath, avid for the tell-tale crack in his brother’s rough voice.

A loud thud sounded against the wall as Dean slammed a hand against it with that slightly high-pitched moan Sam had been waiting for, followed by a string of grunted curses. Sam immediately, finally, took himself in hand and _squeezed_ , and it was all it took for him to paint himself and the covers in thick warm fluid, shaking and gasping in time with his big brother’s climax, and in his mind they rode it out together. For just a quick moment, for a fleeting second he could let himself believe that they were together in this, that those sweet noises spilling from Dean’s lips were because of him. 

He panted and whined as his strokes became looser and more languid until he stopped completely, lazily indulging in dragging the tips of his fingers through the cooling cum on his skin and spreading it around, an impish yet blissed out grin on his face as he closed his eyes and imagined it was Dean marking him up.

When the post-orgasm hormones wore off he’d be back to feeling repulsed by himself and probably being unable to look Dean in the eyes for a whole week, flinching every time he came too close or tried to touch, embarrassment forcing him to shy away from the confused look on his brother’s face. 

And beneath it all he’d still want, fantasize and desire as much as he always had; battling with the thoughts he tried to so hard to suppress, images of how his brother would look naked and sprawled out beneath him or how those plush red lips would feel wrapped around him. No matter how hard he tried, the thoughts were there, they’d sneak right back in- and he’d cave.

He knew how after each time he gave in he’d be back staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and swearing, promising himself over and over to never do it again.

He also knew he had made that promise before, and it was one he never kept.


End file.
